I nod at Baldir's command and waste no time moving out to the entrance hall, where the Captain of the Watch is waiting with a small army of watchmen. Oh, this is going to be a barrel of laughs and no mistake. The Captain's manner is instantly offputting. Even from across the hall I can see his arrogance radiating palpably outward. The servants who attend him are visibly grinding their teeth. It's plain that he does not consider the embassy to be Dwarven ground but rather a part of his own kingdom. I mutter an oath under my breath and barely manage to keep the sardonic grin from my face. Thank Grabthar for beards. I'll just bet he almost does think of this whole place as his kingdom.

I compose myself with effort and do my best to "take a second look" as Baldir calls it. I mean, it's a good thing the Old Dwarf isn't here now...we'd have an interkingdom incident on our hands. But his calmer teachings are no less valid. Yes...no less arrogant but not incapable either. See how his hand rests comfortably upon the pommel of his sword. His armor is more decorative than the others but it is functional, well fitting, and well taken care of. Note the barely perceptible dings and scratches. He has practiced swordplay only this very day! His sneer is firmly set in place upon his features as he takes in the grand Dwarven architecture. But note the small changes in expression when his gaze slides over the solid outer gate and the powerful defenses set in place there. This is a practical man, and well versed in his trade. Note also how his men stand to attention with rigidity and readiness. There is a fierce respect in their stance and in their eyes. When I wandered the city yesterday, I kept my eye on the guardsmen as they moved about. They were competent and efficient, sure, but nothing like this. This is a trim unit and it speaks volumes about the man who commands it.

No, this is not a man to be taken lightly. I realize with a start, as his stern gaze finds me lingering a moment in the doorway, that this is a man above my station. I find myself very suddenly wishing it were someone else approaching this arrogant, terrible warrior after all. But I was a frontier colonist and I remain a healer. I was raised in an environment of practicality myself and I have never flinched from duty or hardship. Without further ado, I stride into the room to greet him. I can see he is irritated to have been kept waiting this long. Were this not an Embassy, a pageboy would've been dispatched to deliver the message. The assignment must've grated on the man's nerves. Still, he was here, doing his duty so it would be difficult to fault him if he truly felt that way. As I come to a halt a respectful distance away, I perform the traditional Dwarven greeting, fist clasped to chest over the heart accompanied by a sharp, short bow.

The Captain does not seem impressed. "Where is Baldir Stonebrow?" he asks, brow arched.

"My apologies, Captain, Master Stonebrow was injured in a training accident, else he would certainly have come to greet you himself. Please don't worry," I say, smiling, "we have some of the best healers on staff. By tomorrow, he will be fit as a fiddle. He sends his regards, though, and hopes that you will not be offended at his absence. He is an admirer of your work." I nod to the men behind him, gleaming in their armor and pride. "My name is Kurgen."

"Hmh," he grunts, all too familiar with the nature of these things. Simultaneously, he brushes it aside, eager to be about business. "Fine. My men will set up here." His eyes flicker again to the defenses. His men move without further order to take up positions around the entrance hall.

"I regret to inform you, Captain. That will not be possible." I keep my face as blank and respectful as possible, swallowing the urge to punch him in his smug nose.

"Excuse me?" His gaze turns slowly back to me, dangerous.

I look apologetic, spreading my hands in a gesture of obeisance. "We had a great sickness spread through our population here over the last day or so. A healthy messenger has already been sent to inform your King." One of the servants begins coughing violently and excuses herself. I resist the urge to smile. I know she has gone to have someone write up the message and send it out. Oh, I like her. What was her name? Matilde? I turn back to the Captain and take a little pleasure in the nervousness that has come into his stance. I'm impressed, however, with the fact that he hasn't moved an inch. "It should be nothing to worry about, Captain. That's why I'm here. I worked in a colony for years as a Healer and I've dealt with this particular strain of illness before. We believe it only affects Dwarves but we can't be completely sure." I look back at the men who have moved to take up position around the greeting hall, seeing the nervousness in them as well. "Could you have your men move away from that side of the hall, Captain? That far end is where we kept our sick until I could identify the strain." He nods sharply, his brow furrowing. The men move gratefully back toward the gate. I watch him while we wait for the clatter of armor to clear the air, hoping he's buying into this line of bull. I've mixed it with the truth, as Baldir taught me, so I hope at least he doesn't know whether to make heads or tails of it. I can see plainly that he is not happy about it, though. "Thank you, sir. As I was saying, I was sent to clean this area and eradicate the illness for good. Unfortunately, I will be alone in this task," I gesture about the great hall, "until some of the other healers can step away from tending Master Stonebrow to take over. And then, of course, there will be a quarantine period of at least a week to ensure the work is done safely." I speak confidently and easily as this is my area of expertise.

The Captain's expression grows darker as the implications begin to hit him. Now, Baldir would say, smooth the wrinkles. "However," I say, "we are honored to receive your men in this difficult time and are more than happy to cooperate. We understand you have a job to do and it is of paramount importance to catch these filthy traitors. Thus, I propose a compromise that will serve both our interests. Please feel free to station your men outside our walls. We would not want the sickness to spread to them and then, of course, to the King's great city. Before I begin the eradication process, I will personally see to each of your men to ensure that they have not been affected by their time here. Then, we will be at your full disposal. Anything your men need until these traitors are caught, I will see that they are provided with. They have only to knock and ask and it will be done, by my honor." I smile helpfully. He stares at me carefully for several seconds before he responds...

Absolutely not. I like creative ideas. And that is a prime example. I had anticipated a similar outcome with the guards watching the streets, but your approach exceeds everything I have come up with. What consequences your little bluff will have in the long term is yet to be seen. But one way or another it will make the story more interesting.

Kurgen: (Persuade/diplomacy: 1, lucker! , the captain: 15) "Very well, we will take position outside. The palace will decide how to deal with the desease. We have our orders. We will gratefully accept your offer and let you know if we require anything, Kurgen." He salutes perfectly and leaves the hall with precise strides. His men follow without a command but with equal discipline. When they are gone you let out a breath you didn't know you had held. Quickly you hurry to one of the hidden peepholes to watch the soldiers take position outside. Not a moment too soon, because the captain has just sent one of his men away. Let's hope Matilde's message gets to the palace first. When you finally turn around you see the other dwarves (servants, guardsmen, craftsmen and all) grinning at you with satisfaction. They don't say a single word but you know you have their consent - even if lying is not the dwarven way.

So many rumors about a plague... I wonder how THAT's going to end up evolving?

Nebul notes the two visitors, as well as the aura of Sir Brandon, which is slowly growing stronger. He won't survive for much longer without help. I approach the priests and greet them in the traditional Boron gesture, pressing both fists to my ears and kneeling. "Greetings sirs." I stand back up and look into their sullen faces. Though the fog obscures their facial features, i can still read the sullenness of their auras."It is my duty as a Necromancer to aid the Land Beyond in any way that I can, and keep watch over the dead. What can I do to assist?"

Sorry, RL is claiming much of my time. I will make this post short, but this will not become standard. I will be back on monday, I promise.

Nebul: You are surprised when one of the two does something. You don't understand how he does it but you are immobelized. Your way back is blocked. Frightening!"You dare cone here and openly state that you are a dark sorcerer?! After all what your kind did?! I should ..""Enough! We can't be sure that he is involved. You, talk! Why are you here and what do you know about the disappearence of our brothers?"

The cool thing about these play-by-posts is that you can take as much time doing real shit as you need to. I certainly don't mind waiting.

"I am a regular visitor. My name is Nebul Morien. While I may be a channeler of necromancy, I assure you that my intentions are good. I am an apprentice white necromancer of the king's court, apprentice of Master Laurence and student of Prime Arcanist Resco. I do not know what evils have fallen upon the Land Beyond, but I have become increasingly aware of something amiss. I am here to investigate." I try to turn my head to see if anyone is scrying on us, but my entire body is paralyzed. I just hope that they release me before Quanire returns. I told Brandon to wake me if he did, but he's likely unconscious already.

"I know you haven't asked yet, but here's what I know so far: An evil magician, likely a Necromancer himself, has been stealing souls from beyond the gates and pressing them back into his service amongst the living. In addition, he's been controling the minds of many members of the court, including the king and several of his guards. In my last visit, I noticed the distinct lack of a Boron guard, and found it most unusual. I don't know how else I can say this, but I assure you that we are on the same team, and any information we can share together will be mutually beneficial."

Nebul: "Although I don't like what you tell us but I believe you. Brother Malcom, you can let go now." "But..." "I said: release him!"You fellt your invisible bonds vanish."I didn't know young Resco has made it to Prime Arcanist. Well, maybe... but that's not important right now. I am Golgari, High Priest of Boron, the god of sleep and death. This short tempered fellow is Broher Raul, Shephard of Soules. What you tell us is most disturbing. ... How did you come to know about all that? When did you notice my brothers had vanished from their post? ..."He wants to know every detail and you willingly answer - I assume. Tell me if I am wrong.. After quite some time (it is hard to tell on this plane of existence) he is satisfied. "That explains much. Yes, you are right in your assumptions: This is the work of a very skilled necromancer indeed. To enslave the souls he needs for his plan, he had to weaken the boundaries between The Dream and Reality (this seems to be a special term of the boroni). I am no expert in the fields of magic, but he had to perform a powerful ritual of the most sinister kind to achieve that. In the night before yesterday you say?" He exchanges glances with his companion. "Let's simply say the stars were in a convenient arrangement for his plans then. So at least he can't do something so troublesome at will. But this also shows us that he has planned this for years. And another thing you should know: To possess a living person with an enslaved soul is the strongest form of mind control known to mankind. I know of no way to disspell this curse that does not involve the death of the host.Once we get back we will contact our brothers in your city. Maybe they can help you. But since you are wanted by the authorities, don't contact them until I tell you to. Let us meet here again tomorrow. Do you have any other questions? Otherwise we will return to our bodies now."

On a different note: Still no reply from neither Quantumsurfer nor Wingnut?

I do as I said, essentially. I finish tending the beardling, then head outside to make the rounds of the guards. I'll speak friendly with those of a more talkative disposition and generally ply them for information about the city. I don't expect to learn anything new, of course, but I do hope to improve my personal relationship with these men. I'll inform the Captain that the men are free from illness and offer to fetch a court healer to tend to them in the future, with the idea in mind that they might feel more comfortable with a second opinion from one of their own. "I have medical items to purchase anyway, so it will be no inconvenience for me to drop by." I'll wait for any letter or message I may need to be drawn up, using the time to speak with Njalla and the rest of Baldir's inner circle about the goings-on. I leave out the bit where I'm actually trying to help the fugitives, though I'm sure most of them (if not all of them) are perfectly aware of my intentions. Better not said where prying ears may hide, the better for plausible deniability. Then I grab my gear and my letter of passage and I take off into the city.

Just waiting for you to come back and trying to decide what to do. This seems legitimate. I really am avoiding metagaming. Even though this post looks like just the opposite, since I could run into either of the other player's directly this way.

Golgari! I'm putting together a magic deck filled with all that black/green goodness myself!

"Yes, I will meet you here tomorrow. If I do not return, assume the worst. We'll also need a passphrase to assure that none of us have been mentally enslaved - "Vomir" should work fine. I will see you again." With that, I drop out of the realm of death, and return to my own body to check on Brandon, and see if Quanire has returned yet. Or if my body has gotten into any trouble while I left it...

That is not the Golgari I was thinking about. In the world of The Dark Eye, Golgari is the first angel of the deathgod Boron. In the shape of a giant raven he carries the souls of the dead across the Never-Ever-Sea (Nirgendmeer). To hear Golgari's wings is a saying for being close to death.

Kurgen: While you 'tend' to the soldiers you learn that they have to work longer shifts than usual because of the king's new aggressive agenda. Not only are they to search for the traitors but also clean the city from 'any thieves, outlaws and similar filth with all means neccessary'. Some of them seem to be at least skeptical if not outright displeased with these orders."I'd rather have the afternoon off than the silver coin they pay me extra."You inform the inner circle of your latest scheme. The reactions reach from amusement to sincere concern. When you get ready to leave for the palace, you notice a young man in priest's robes at the gate, arguing with the watchmen. It is clear that they won't let him pass.

Nebul: You wake up in the dark hole behind the stairs. Sir Brandon seems to be asleep. His breath is shallow but steady, his face hot and sweaty. You can hear noises from the streets outside, but they are far and muffled. Quanire is not back and there is no way of telling how long it will take him.

In the meantime:Quanire: You reach the dwarven district. It is a goodthing that you went alone because you had to pass two patroles and one checkpoint and had to answer many stupid questions, but in the end you could pass without incident. Now you see the sturdy fortress that is the dwarven embassy behind the thick walls. But not much more since your way is blocked by a group of watchmen. "There is a plague spreading insde. Until we know more noone is allowed to enter." You try to argue with these blockheads, tell them that you are a priest(-to-be) of the white goddess and blessed with her protection, but they don't care. You are so close and still so far. Your friend and even a royal knight if not the fate of the whole kingdom depends on you and you are on the verge of failing because of the stubbornness of these guards.

Metagaming would kill this game so please avoid it. The story evolves with and around your characters so it is important to me that you stay in character and act accordingly, even if it would mean to "set back" teamplay or be inconvenient for the others, "the story/plot" or myself. It is what makes this stroy come alive.

In my opinion to have Quanire and Kurgen meet each other here is the fastest and most plausible way to make you have contact. After all that is what Nebul planned from the beginning. Kind of.

More or less. I don't want to play as Quanire since I think it'd be a conflict of interest. Quanire's sucky, and just might fuck up...

I do my best to tend to Brandon's injuries. How much longer before we assume Quanire was captured? I can spare another hour, maybe two. Once the sun goes down, we may have to assume the worst. I only pray I can figure out what to do with Brandon, since leaving him here would almost certainly lead to his death.

I come upon the scene to see a priest arguing with the watchmen at our gates. I mutter thanks to whatever powers are watching over me. Going to the palace would've been a nightmare to navigate and I would've been there all day. It had been my only option, really, but now the gods have dropped one of their own in my very lap. I make my way over, greeting the guards jovially. Some of them look relieved to see me. I can tell they are tired. "Johan, isn't it? By the gods, man, are you on double duty? I thought you were off after I went back inside. Endurance of an Ox, this one." I reach up and clap him on the upper arm. "Good man. But who is this?" I extend my arm toward the newcomer.Quanire grips my forearm in greeting, smiling a little despite himself. "The name is Quanire, Master Dwarf. I am in service to the White Lady. The guards tell me there is a plague inside?" His expression becomes one of concern. I can still see his annoyance, though.I look grave, keeping to my lie. This is getting ridiculous. "Indeed, a sickness. We are working on clearing our halls of it, however. It shan't be present much longer. But how fantastic is our luck! A healer, come to our halls on the eve of this very sickness." I look back and forth between Quanire and Johan. "I was just talking to your Captain, Sir, about dropping by the palace to retrieve one of your own to come and tend the men here. I thought it might make you more comfortable to have a second opinion. It is fortunate that you seemed to have saved me the trouble, then, Quanire. Please, call me Kurgen. I am no Master. But I will be happy to take you inside to meet the masters of this hall, learn the purpose of your visit, and maybe get you all set up, if that's alright with these fine men..."

Kurgen: The guards just nod, unsure what to do since the captain is not present right now. You bring Quanire inside before they can change their mind. In the entrance hall the boy is overwhelmed for a few seconds by the superior craftsdwarfship. After all the hall is designed to do just that to any new visitor with its decorated walls, its masterpieces in the showcases; even the floor is a piece of art. It also helps to hide the arrow loops and overall sturdyness. You wait patiently. You were no different when you set foot inside the first time."I am Sorry, Master Kurgen. I was... aaah,... sorry. We can continue now."You lead him to a small room where you can talk in private. "Master Kurgen, you are just the dwarf I am here to see. Oh, well, how do I phrase it? Aaam,.. a mutual friend asks for your help." He is kneading his hands and avoids your eyes. He is obviously uncomfortable with the situation.

Nebul is waiting for Quanire to return. Sorry, but what happens next depends on the outcome of the scene at the embassy. You will have to wait for that to finish.

I stare at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to continue. I sigh, heavily. "Out with it, boy. It's been a long day already. And call me Kurgen. I am no one's master." Quanire starts, his eyes round. Perhaps I've overdone it. He's handled himself well but is obviously tired and a little scared. Whatever the hell is going on here has him rattled. I try a kinder tack. "Look, just tell me who this mutual friend is and what they need. We Dwarves are famous for our loyalty. I am no different, Quanire. I always help my friends when I am able." I pause, studying him. "I sense that you're mixed up in something bad. Perhaps we can be of mutual benefit to one another. I need some help finding a friend of my own. You help me find my friend and I'll do what I can to ease whatever burden it is you are carrying." I have the sense that our problems may be the same one but I can't yet be completely sure."Ah, well, yes...erm...Kurgen," Quanire begins, but then stops frowning and looking about him at the impressive Dwarven architecture. He glances toward the door. It doesn't take a genius to see he's thinking of the guards outside. Or of the crushing authority figures all around him, born of not one, but two nations.I try not to roll my eyes and engage in the familiar habit of pinching the bridge of my wide, uneven nose. I try again, speaking kindly but sternly. "Consider, servant of the White Dove, that your duties as a healer far outweigh any other, more worldly considerations." I jerk my thumb at the door. "I trust you have taken this mission on behalf of our mutual friend precisely because it falls within the boundaries of your duties. Else, you would not come here in such haste and fluster. Consider also, you rest upon Dwarven soil. Our peoples cooperate as much as we are able. Sometimes the diplomacy and bureaucracy inherent in those processes slows communication. Though we remain vigilant in our own duties as diplomats, certain information can become obsolete or obfuscated by matters of greater importance. Do you understand?"Quanire is silent a moment. I can see the wheels turning. Here is a bright lad, with an agile and open mind. I can only hope he can see past his fear and hold fast to the lifeline I've tossed him. At last, he responds...